There's nothing to discuss. [Gathering a fistful of bedsheets, Arthur draws the covers up to his waist.]
My father had a good point. We may have --throw my belt over that chair, will you-- may have saved the city, but half the market got leveled in the process.
[He wiggles down a bit, getting comfortable as he continues.] That kind of victory
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We got it in the end. [The thought of Uther's severe reprimands makes Merlin frown.] Your father shouldn't be blaming you for this--you did your best to protect the city.
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[The regretful silence that follows is punctuated only by the sounds of shifting fabric and air puffing free from Arthur's pillow as he lays back onto it. Once on his back, he raises a hand to flap a tired gesture in the air.]
Candle, [he mumbles, voice humorously muffled by the tangle of blankets and pillows around him;]
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Anything else, sire? [Without waiting for a reply, Merlin leans over Arthur, pulling the blanket to the side to properly kiss him.]
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Stay with me. [A few beats of silence.] ...And a back rub wouldn't be unappreciated, either, if you think you can manage it.
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